


Hot Cop

by rosieeexox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Erica Reyes, Alive Laura Hale, Awkward Flirting, Crush at First Sight, Derek is Derek, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Gay Bar, M/M, Nobody is a werewolf, Stiles is Legal, Stiles is Not a Virgin, Underage Drinking, and also oblivious, cop Derek, derek in a crop top, derek is a dirty cop but its not what you think, wow i cant believe i almost forgot the most important tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 20:16:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15589896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosieeexox/pseuds/rosieeexox
Summary: Stiles is out and about to miss curfew and there’s no way he’s calling his dad to pick him up from a gay bar several towns over.





	Hot Cop

**Author's Note:**

> hi it's been a while but I'm back with a cute little one shot thats been sitting in my drafts for forever. i'll proof read eventually and fix any mistakes. enjoy!

“Shit, shit, shit.” Stiles curses, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“What is wrong with you?”

“It’s already past 11.”

“So?”

Stiles shoots Lydia a look. If she wasn’t the only friend willing to drive over an hour to go to a gay bar with him, he might’ve punched her. Playfully. On the arm or something. Okay, maybe not because Lydia could totally kick his ass. Anyway.

“Oh!” Lydia realizes. “Curfew, right. Shit.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

Lydia sighs. “I told you I couldn’t drive you home tonight, I’m going straight to visit Jackson.”

“I know.” 

“You were supposed to catch the bus at 10:30.”

“I  _ know _ .”

“You need to be more responsible, Stiles.”

He shoots her a look again. Tonight was a waste, there were no guys at the bar he was interested in. Well, there were a few, but none of them were interested in him. So it was a waste. And now he’s going to miss curfew. Again.

“Why don’t you call your dad?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” Stiles snaps.

“It’s not like he doesn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighs.  _ That  _ was a whole big, awkward encounter. Coming out to his dad, his dad trying to give him The Talk. Stiles shudders. “But he’s still weird about it and I think he might be even angrier if I ask him to leave work to come pick me up from a gay bar in the middle of nowhere.”

Stiles goes to the bar, orders three shots, and downs them all.

“I’m going to go see if I can catch the last bus or a taxi or something.”

Lydia smiles sympathetically and they leave together.

“I can wait with you, if you want.” Stiles can feel the hollowness of the offer.

“Nah,” He shrugs. “It’s fine. Jackson awaits!”

Lydia kisses him on the forehead and then she’s gone.

Stiles sighs and makes himself comfortable on the curb. He knows the 10:30 bus was the last one. And he knows no taxi driver is going to drive him all the way back to Beacon Hills. He calls Scott, knowing he’s not going to answer. Him and Allison had their third date tonight and Lydia told him that means they’re finally going to hook up. 

The last few shots are hitting him which is why he thinks it’s a great idea to take out his phone and dial 911. The police help people, right? So if you’re in trouble, you call the police. That’s what his dad always taught him, being Sheriff and all.

 

“911, what’s your emergency?” The woman who answers sounds nice enough.

“I need a ride.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I need a ride to Beacon Hills.”

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Stiles Stilinski, please don’t call my dad.”

“Who’s your dad?”

“He’s the Sheriff at Beacon Hills.” Stiles can’t tell if he’s slurring his words are not.

“Alright.” Stiles swears he hears her chuckle.

“I can’t call him, though, because I’m at Rainbow Rave and he’s still weird about the whole me being gay thing. Also my curfew is midnight and I’m pretty sure it’s past that right now. So he’s probably already mad at me.”

“You’re at Rainbow Rave?”

“Yeah. Send someone nice, these are probably my final hours.”

The woman chuckles again. “Don’t worry, sir. We have someone out in the area. I’ll radio him and let him know we have a civilian in distress.”

“Is he nice?” Stiles confirms.

“Yes, he’s very nice.”

“Okay, thanks. I’m wearing a red shirt with a lot of holes in it and yes I bought it like that so tell him not to even ask.”

“Alright, sir. You have a good night. The officer will be there soon.”

Stiles hangs up the phone and lays back, the world is spinning. Three shots of tequila in a row was not a smart idea. He focuses on the music he can hear coming from the bar to stay awake.

He hears a car slow and sits up, too fast.

“Jesus Christ.” Stiles mumbles, shielding his eyes from the headlights.

“Are you Stiles?” The officer asks. He has a very good cop voice. 

“Yes, sir.” Stiles stands up straight.

“Get in.” The officer’s voice wavers, like he’s holding in a laugh.

Stiles walks to the passengers side of the car and stops. Is he allowed in the front seat? His dad lets him sit in the front seat of his cruiser sometimes. He should probably sit in the back. But then his dad will have a heart attack when he sees him in the backseat of a police car from four towns over. Stiles is still having the internal conflict when the officer interrupts him, openly laughing now.

“You can sit in the front, kid.”

“I’m not a kid!”

“Well you’re definitely not old enough to be drinking, that’s for sure.”

Stiles’s blood runs cold as he plops down into the passenger seat. Shit. He didn’t even think of that. He’s only 19 there’s no way he’s not going to jail. Wow his dad is going to be  _ so  _ mad.

“Don’t worry,” The officer interrupts his internal breakdown once again. “I’m just giving you a ride and totally not coming back to fine the bar for serving you.”

Stiles groans and places his head in his hands.

“Stiles, right?”

He sits up a little straighter. “Yeah.”

“I’m Derek. Derek Hale. Your dad trained me last summer, actually.”

“Of course he did.”

“He said I was his star pupil.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Maybe he won’t kill me in front of you, then.”

His dad always told him not to joke about murder, especially in front of cops. But Derek laughs so Stiles thinks it’s probably okay to joke in front of this one. 

“Let’s hope. It would be really awkward to have to arrest your dad.”

 

They fall into a silence after that. It’s not awkward, but it’s not exactly comfortable, either. Stiles takes the time to look at the officer who picked him up. He’s not in uniform, which is the first thing Stiles notices. He’s wearing a red flannel over what is definitely a tight fitting black crop top and  _ holy shit this guy was at Rainbow Rave oh fuck. _

“Were you-” Stiles cuts himself off to clear his throat, which is suddenly very, very dry. “Sorry, uh, were you at the, um, the bar?”

“Rainbow Rave? Yeah. Erica texted me that there was a kid outside who needed a ride back to Beacon Hills who was wearing a ripped up red shirt that I wasn’t allowed to ask about.”

Stiles is thankful the sun isn’t up to illuminate just how red his face is.

“Shit, sorry dude. Is it your night off or something? Wow, fuck, I’m sorry.”

Derek laughs. “Relax, I was only out because my sister forced me to. I was thankful for the excuse to leave. Duty calls, right?”

Stiles relaxes. Barely. “You went to a gay bar with your sister?”

“Yeah, she told me I needed to get out more, and that was her solution.”

“Are you even-” Stiles cuts himself off. That is not a question he has any right to ask.

“Gay?” Derek finishes for him. He turns to look at Stiles and Stiles  _ swears  _ he checks him out. “Yeah. I am.”

Stiles swallows, his throat as dry as ever. “Cool, cool. Yeah, me, too.”

Derek chuckles but says nothing.

Stiles’ mind is racing. He needs to get it together. There is no way this hot ass police officer is flirting with him. Not with arms like those and the stubble and the eyebrows and the eyes and yes, Stiles realizes those are things that most human beings have but for some reason the combination that Derek has is unbelievable hot.

They pass a sign saying they still have 48 miles til Beacon Hills. Stiles makes himself comfortable in his seat.

Derek breaks the silence after a few minutes. “So, how were you supposed to get home? I hope this wasn’t your plan all along.”

Stiles sighs. “My friend Lydia drove me and she was leaving right after to go visit her boyfriend who lives a couple more miles north and we agreed I would take the bus home but I got distracted and missed the last bus and then she left to go see Jackson and I couldn’t call my dad for obvious reasons and I called Scott but him and Allison are third-dating so really it was either this or find a nice cardboard box to sleep in until the morning bus at 6.”

Derek is quiet for a moment.

“Sorry, uh, I talk a lot.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Derek assures him. “I was just trying to figure out what ‘third-dating’ means.”

“Lydia said girls have a rule or something that says they can’t sleep with a boy until the third date.”

Derek laughs. “Is that a real thing?”

Stiles shrugs. “Apparently.”

“Kinda glad I don’t have to deal with that.”

“You fuck on the first date?” It slips out before Stiles can process what he’s saying. “I mean, uh, don’t answer that, I’m so sorry. That’s none of my business, sorry, I swear when I’m sober I have a filter. Kind of. Sorry, oh my God. You can taze me if you want, that’ll probably shut me up.”

“Stiles, please relax.” Derek is using his soft cop voice and Stiles wants to die.

“Sorry.”

“We’re both adults here. I’m not going to taze you for asking a question.”

“It was kind of a rude question, though.”

“I thought it was funny.”

Stiles says nothing.

“I do, though.”

“Huh?” Stiles asks.

“Fuck. On the first date.” Stiles swallows. “If I want to, obviously. I couldn’t imagine having to wait three dates. Especially when the guy is really funny and has his nipples out the whole time.”

Stiles looks down subtly to see that his nipples are in fact out. He swallows again.

“Am I drunk or are you flirting with me?”

Derek barks out a laugh. “I’m flirting with you, yes.”

“Is this a date?”

“Do you want it to be?”

Stiles thinks for a second. “It’s not very romantic.”

“I think it is.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m 22.”

“And you’re a cop?”

“I told you, your dad said I was his star pupil.”

“Don’t talk about my dad right now while we’re on a date.”

Derek laughs again.

“Could we call this a pre-date?”

“Sure.” Derek agrees.

“We can go on a real date tomorrow.” Stiles suggests. “Or whenever.” He adds as an afterthought. Don’t wanna seem too eager. Although Derek basically just told him he wants to fuck him so maybe he should be a little eager.

“Tomorrow would be nice.”

“I could pick  _ you  _ up for a change.”

“You could.

Stiles catches the sign that says they’re 6 miles from Beacon Hills and he’s suddenly very, very anxious. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s about to leave Derek or if it’s because he’s about to face his dad.

“I’m willing to consider this a date if you want me to my door.” Stiles announces after a moment.

“Are you really that scared of your dad?” Derek’s face and voice are immediately filled with concern.

“No! No, no.” Stiles assures him. “No, it’s not that. I mean, he’s definitely gonna be mad but he’ll probably tell me he’s disappointed in me and force me to do the laundry for a week or something.”

“Oh.” Derek visibly relaxes.

“I was tryna trick you into giving me a goodnight kiss.”

Derek smirks. “I have a backseat.” He notices the startled look on Stiles’ face. “Oh, shit. Sorry. Are you…”

“I’m not a virgin, God. I’m just a little tipsy and trying to process the fact that you legitimately want to sleep with me.”

“I noticed you, you know. Back at the bar.”

Now it’s Stiles’ turn to laugh. “Yeah, right. There’s no way you noticed me when I didn’t even see you.”

“I did.” Derek turns to look at him quickly. Stiles scowls at him. “I watched you talk to that guy in the blue button-down shirt for a few minutes. You bought him a drink and then his boyfriend came back from the bathroom.”

Stiles hides his face in his hands. That was easily the most embarrassing interaction of the night, so  _ of course  _ that’s the one that Derek saw.

“I did get a guy's number. Two guys, actually.”

Derek hums.

“I guess I don’t really need them now, do I?”

Stiles turns to see Derek’s reaction. He smiles, but says nothing, keeping his eyes on the road.

“If you noticed me soooo early in the night, how come you didn’t talk to me?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“I was a little intimidated by the confidence you had approaching some guy you didn’t know and also a little self-conscious because you never approached me.”

“I didn’t see you!”

“Well I know that,  _ now. _ ” Derek says it very matter of factly.

“Aww, you have a crush on me.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t thirsting over me the second you got in my squad car.”

Stiles doesn’t have time to answer because he spots the “Welcome to Beacon Hills” sign and spends the rest of the ride directing Derek to his house.

 

They pull into his driveway and Stiles sighs with relief that all the lights are off. The clock in Derek’s car reads 12:54 so either his dad is already asleep or he’s still at the station. Stiles prays for the latter because then he can lie and say he was home on time and not be forced to do whatever chore his dad hopefully hasn’t spent the last 54 minutes thinking about.

“So, this is me.” Stiles says a little awkwardly.

“Still want me to walk you to your door?”

“Yes please.” Stiles sings, hopping out of the car.

They walk towards the front door, their shoulders bumping every few steps. Derek is only slightly taller than him, but much bigger physically. They stop in front of the door and Derek turns to face him. Stiles takes a moment to  _ really  _ check Derek out. The flannel stretches around his biceps and his crop top brushes just above his belly button. Stiles can see his happy trail and it makes his mouth run dry. He’s wearing dark wash jeans and Stiles curses himself for not checking out his butt. Although he’s pretty sure it’s a great butt. Because apparently everything about Derek is great. Stiles trails his eyes back up Derek’s body to find the officer already looking at him. He swallows.

“So, this is me.” Stiles offers weakly.

“You said that already.”

Stiles laughs anxiously. His hands are sweating so he subconsciously wipes them on the front of his black jeans.

“Thanks for driving me home.”

“No problem.”

“You should probably give me your phone number. So I can pick you up tomorrow. If you want.” Stiles is suddenly very unsure that Derek wants to take him out. Even though he literally told Stiles he was flirting with him. And offered up his backseat for...activities. Maybe he was just being nice. Or maybe he just wanted to get laid.

“Are you freaking out in your head again?”

“No.” Stiles lies.

Derek chuckles softly and then suddenly he’s pressing their lips together, his hand underneath Stiles’ chin, tilting it upwards. Stiles feels all the tension and all his insecurities drain from his body. He sighs into the kiss, pushing forward so that their hips connect. He’s about to start rubbing against him when Derek breaks the kiss. Stiles tries not to pout.

“You should probably get inside.” Derek says, a little breathless. He hands Stiles his card. “That’s my cell phone number, call me tomorrow.”

“If I’m still alive.” Stiles jokes.

“Your dad’s still at the station.”

“How do you know?”

“I may have texted Erica to radio the station and specifically ask for your dad to look for a file I know for a fact is currently on my desk.”

Stiles gasps in mock horror. “I knew you were a dirty cop.”

Derek winks and makes his way back to his car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Stiles.”

“See you tomorrow.” Stiles replies, not loud enough for Derek to hear.

Stiles stands on his porch until Derek’s tail lights fade from view.

 

It’s a little less than an hour later when Stiles hears his dad come home. He smiles to himself and sets an alarm for 8am. He plans on cooking his dad breakfast before work, for no particular reason of course.

 

He wakes up the next morning, still clutching Derek’s card to his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> comments? kudos? anything? ;)


End file.
